


Bite-sized "Haikyuu" ficlets for when you're on the go

by MartyMiaMatt



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Aged-Up Characters, Almost Kiss, Ambiguous Relationships, Bathroom encounters, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Cannot Spit It Out, Crying, Drunkness, Everyone likes to ruffle Hinata’s hair apparently, Fluff, Foreplay, Friends With Benefits, Groping, Hair-pulling, Hinata is a bit of tease, Jealousy, Kissing, Licking, Lots of blushing, Love Triangle, M/M, Masturbation, Messing Around, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Mutual Seduction, Premature Ejaculation, Slap Slap Kiss, Summer Heat, Unrequited Crush, Virginity, Vomit, alcohol consumption, angry kisses, bites, developing crush, first sexual experiences, hinted established relationship, jealous and protective Tsukishima because I like to write him that way, jealous oikawa, masturbating on the phone, teenagers exploring sexual intimacy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-10-21 01:59:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10675359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MartyMiaMatt/pseuds/MartyMiaMatt
Summary: Hinata isn’t very heavy on him, but he can very well feel the redhead’s physical presence; the way his tiny, lithe body fills up the space near him. The shape of his small torso, the volume of the lean but strong and agile legs around his hips.Tobio doesn’t really feel like moving, right now.-(What it says on the tin: just a collection of small moments between multiple characters and different pairings.Some pieces will be romantic or platonic, others smuttier. Tags will be added with every new chapter.)





	1. Power lines (Hinata/Kageyama)

**Author's Note:**

> For Mads, because she introduced me to Haikyuu!  
> For N because I think she'll appreciate the softness. 
> 
> Just a quick, bite-sized fic that I wrote in a couple of hours, on a sudden wave of inspiration.  
> The idea came to me late at night and it wouldn't go away until I laid it down on paper.  
> I plan to write more small, light-hearted pieces like this because this has been so fun and relaxing. ^^  
> Please let me know if there are any mistakes or if I used any of the terminology incorrectly. I tried to correct it the best way I can, but I'm super tired these days and I may have missed something!
> 
> Please be aware that this piece, while not explicit, depicts teenage characters in a sexual situation.  
> This story isn't strictly set in a very specific moment of the anime. I'm still watching the first season as I'm posting this, but I imagined the characters to be a little older, around 16-17, and far enough in their relationship that they're comfortable being intimate with each other, but they probably haven't slept together yet.
> 
> I hope you like it. :)  
> Marty

“You know that I could throw you down at any time, right?” Tobio asks, casually.

To emphasize his point, he gives a small tug with his shoulders, not trying really that hard to move.

Hinata just giggles in his ear, his breath warm and ticklish.

“Oh, really. Is that so, now…”

Unfazed, Hinata ignores him. He keeps crawling and climbing the other boy’s body until he’s on top of him, straddling Kageyama’s hips with his thighs and leaning over Kageyama’s back.

 

They’re in Shouyou’s room, lying on his bed. His mother and his sister went out a while ago; in this quiet summer afternoon, it seems that the only sound is the low, monotonous buzzing noise of the old fan in a corner.

Tobio hides a smile inside the page of his Math textbook. He’s been working on the same problem for fifteen minutes now, or at least pretending to, the pen lying mostly unused in his hand.

It’s not because it’s difficult – he’s usually pretty good at Math anyway – but because Hinata can prove… very… _distracting._

Hinata’s fingers brush along Tobio’s neck, ghosting over his nape to the spot where his dark hair is shorter. Humming to himself, Hinata pets handfuls of the other’s hair, twirling and softly pulling the raven strands around his small fingertips. He twists them and then releases them, slowly, over and over; he’s probably making a mess of Kageyama’s head that could match the unruliness of his own red hair, but Kageyama doesn’t complain.

 

Small waves of heat start to creep up Tobio’s spine, from that spot in the small of his back where Hinata is half-sitting. He’s using him as if he’s the most comfortable sofa.

Hinata isn’t very heavy on him, but he can very well _feel_ the redhead’s physical presence; the way his tiny, lithe body fills up the space near him. The shape of his small torso, the volume of the lean but strong and agile legs around his hips.

Tobio doesn’t really feel like moving, right now.

 

“Kageyama…” Shouyou pleads.

His voice is tiny. He drags the vowels in the other’s surname as if half-singing.

They’ve eventually reached first-name basis, when it’s just the two of them, but not all the time. Calling each other by surname, like in school – _like on the court_ – in a way feels more familiar, more direct. It’s how they met each other, and they often slip back into that habit.

Tobio bites his lower lip and makes one last desperate attempt to concentrate on the page under his eyes.

Even inside the house, away from the scorching sun, the heat is almost too much to bear. The air is unmoving and stifling, it clings to their half-naked bodies like something physical.

They’re supposed to be studying. They promised that they would, while they wait until it cools off a little so that they can go practice outside.

They promised.

But they’re both wearing nothing but t-shirts and shorts, and now Shouyou is pressing his chest even more against Tobio’s back.

He leaves small kisses on one side of Tobio’s neck. His lips brush against Tobio’s earlobe and Hinata nibbles on it, gently tugging it with his teeth.

Kageyama shivers.

“I – have to finish this exercise…”

 

Heat stings on Kageyama’s cheeks.

He’s covered in sweat. The room is too hot. He can’t even breathe right…

Shouyou lets out another small laugh: but this time it’s breathy, raspy.

His thighs squeeze each side of Kageyama’s body a little harder. And Kageyama’s breath gets caught in his throat, because that’s the outline of Hinata’s cock that he can feel through the thin barrier of their cotton shorts, bulging against his butt.

Hinata grinds on him with small, slow circling movements that have nothing casual or uncertain about them. He curls his hips upwards and then presses them down again on the other’s buttocks, his growing hardness impossible to ignore.

Kageyama feels his own cock stir and twitch between his legs, trapped between him and the sheets.

He grits his teeth and lets go of the pen.

 

A quick twist of his ankles and hips is all it takes to catch Hinata off guard and throw him off balance.

Hinata emits a small sound of surprise and amusement, rolling near over the edge of the bed.

Kageyama leans out a hand to catch his wrist before he falls, and they sit up opposite each other.

Tobio wraps his arms around Shouyou’s waist. They’re both panting lightly.

“Told you,” Tobio mutters. He grins a little while he grabs the front of Hinata’s shirt and pulls him closer.

Hinata smiles back. Open and warm, his cheeks a little red now, like after a run.

He’s sitting with his knees bent, his thighs apart.

Tobio ignores his own embarrassment and reaches down to palm Hinata’s crotch, thumbing the hardening shape of his erection.

Hinata breathes in heavily and reflexively grabs his wrist. Not to stop him, Kageyama knows.

He thinks about how he wants to _smell_ and to _lick,_ how he wants to mouth at Hinata’s crotch through the fabric before touching him directly. How he wants to make Hinata whimper and tremble and push those slender hips against his face, like it’s happened before.

“Kageyama…” Hinata moans again. His tone is almost _whiny._

 

Tobio’s brows furrow, without him being aware of it. His face acquires that intent expression, that air of focused determination that he has on the volley court, when he and Hinata become two sides of the same man.

Hinata stares hungrily.

Then he leans forward and cups the other’s face with both hands.

When they kiss it’s messy, urgent, and they go at it until they’re both out of breath. Shouyou pushing with his tongue between the other’s teeth, touching his cheeks, his hair, his neck, every inch of Kageyama that his hands can reach.

Kageyama moans and grunts into his mouth. He roughly grabs Hinata’s smooth, nearly naked thighs, and practically pulls him on his lap.

 

They pull away.

Their hearts are racing. Their chests raise and fall to the rhythm of uneven breaths.

Tobio bumps his forehead against Hinata’s, softly. He stays like that for a few moments, catching his breath.

“Okay,” he murmurs quietly, giving in at last. Not that he’s needed much persuading, and Hinata _knows_ that. “We can study later,” he pretends to concede, with mock haughtiness that does nothing to hide the truth of his affection and his _want._

Hinata grins triumphantly. “Great!” he exclaims, as if he’s just landed a particularly good jump or a well done toss.

He throws his head back and the skin on his slim throat is smooth, clear, tempting. Kageyama definitely wants to bite there, kiss and bite him all over, paying little mind to the fact that they’ve agreed they shouldn’t leave marks on each other where others can see.

Hinata’s small, quick hands slip under his white shirt.

He licks Tobio’s lower lip with the tip of his tongue, takes his mouth for another kiss.

 

Kageyama shakes his head in amusement, and grabs Hinata’s wrists to pull him back down on the bed with him.


	2. Impulsive (Shouyou/Kenma)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma is staying at Shouyou’s house for the weekend, two entire days.  
> Shouyou can barely believe it.
> 
> Shouyou’s mother seems happy to have the other boy with them for a while.  
> She probably believes that they’re really good friends – which, well, they are.  
> If she suspects anything else, anything more, she hasn't asked.
> 
> Anyway, all that matters is that Kenma is here.  
> Kenma. Here. With him. After almost an entire month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am with the second chapter! 
> 
> This piece is a little less canon-compliant, I guess. As in the previous one, I imagined the characters to be a little older, probably about 17.  
> I imagined them to have some sort of "friends with benefits" relationship including casual moments of intimacy, but they're also probably both virgins and they're navigating sex for one of the first times.  
> Please be aware that I included a description of Kenma's body type that focuses on his thinness. It may be uncomfortable or triggering to some readers. 
> 
> I... I probably went OOC with this. Also this chapter is more explicitly sexual than the last one.  
> Please keep reading the tags carefully!

Shouyou pulls Kenma inside the room by his wrist, then slams the door shut behind them.

It’s rare for them to have a few moments alone; it’s already difficult enough to find the time to see each other once in a while, every two or three weeks.

Sometimes it’s Hinata who travels to town to go meet Kenma; this time it’s the opposite. Kenma is staying at Shouyou’s house for the weekend, two entire days.

Shouyou can barely believe it.

 

Shouyou’s mother seems happy to have the other boy with them for a while.  
She probably believes that they’re really good friends – which, well, they are.   
If she suspects anything else, anything more, she hasn't asked.

 

Anyway, all that matters is that Kenma is here.

Kenma. Here. _With him._ After almost an entire month.

 

Shouyou drives his hand into the other boy’s long hair and kisses him hard, while his heart jumps into his throat.

He hears the beating of Kenma’s heart mirroring his own. It’s like a song. Something so simple and at the same time so incredible… Shouyou really, really likes this thing, this… _feeling._

The skin on Kenma’s face is soft. His hair is tangled in Hinata’s fingers.

Kenma kisses him back. His lips are delicate and tender, the tip of his tongue curling up against Hinata’s upper lip.

The redhead half-forgets how to breathe. He opens his mouth, letting him in.

It’s Kenma who first kissed him this way, surprising him. Hinata at first was hopeless at returning the kisses; too eager, too nervous and clumsy, afraid of doing something wrong. But he’s learning, and he’s getting better at it. He hopes so.

 

Shouyou’s hands travel down along Kenma’s neck, past the pointed edges of his boney shoulders.

His fingers are trembling, but he reaches for the hem of Kenma’s shirt and pulls it up a little over his waist.

They don’t have much time, and they don’t know when they might have another occasion like this again in the immediate future. They might as well make the most of the little time they do have.

 

Kenma’s touch disrupts the wave of flashing thoughts and feelings when his hand touches Shouyou’s chin.

He hugs the redhead tighter, perching his hands on Hinata’s shoulders. He pecks Shouyou’s lips again, making him blush.

Shouyou lifts up Kenma’s shirt a little more. He caresses the small portion of uncovered skin… it’s smooth and warm; pale and with a rosy shade of sunburn from all the time Kenma is spending outside training, now that spring is turning into summer. The days are getting longer, the sun more and more scorching even in the early hours.

Kenma’s abdomen is hollow and when Shouyou’s fingertips slide over his jutting ribs and hips, the bones feel like blades under the skin. This year he’s having a sudden burst of growth, quickly becoming thinner and taller than Shouyou.

Hinata explores upwards, grazing Kenma’s chest and – ah, there it is – the softness of his nipples, light brown, small and hardened.

Kenma arches his back a little and a tiny “Ah—” escapes from his lips. Like it’s often the case when he speaks, it’s almost inaudible.

(But Hinata _does_ hear.)

Kenma makes that small smile of his. The one that’s silent and quick, and so very rare.

His half-closed golden eyes stare into Shouyou’s own.

His lips are parted.

“Yes, Shouyou,” he whispers. He wraps his fingers around Hinata’s wrist and firmly guides his hand.

 

Hinata prods at the small nubs of flesh; he tentatively caresses them, then he gives the left one a small, experimental pinch. He twists it lightly between index and thumb.

Another moan vibrates in Kenma’s throat. It’s a rare sight, really, because he’s never like this with anyone else… well, not that Hinata knows. But the other people they do or do not see isn’t really something they discuss; sometimes, Shouyou thinks, it’s better not to ask.

Hinata impulsively grabs the other’s hips with both hands.

Kenma slides his thin arms around his neck.

 

Hinata’s mouth moves to Kenma’s neck. He nuzzles his head against Kenma’s face, and he feels the other boy gently tug on one strand of his hair. _Reminding_ him… Right, right, they’re in a hurry.

There’ll be another time to be more gentle, to take things slowly and all that.

_He hopes so._

For now, Shouyou goes back to leaving wet kisses and small licks on his friend’s throat, fingers sinking into slender hips, until Kenma is practically clinging onto him, shaking and purring.

 

Kenma pants into the other’s mouth. They keep kissing, Shouyou’s back getting almost pushed against the wall near the door.

He’s half hard inside his boxers, leaking. He feels his member twitch with waves of arousal every time he accidentally grazes Kenma’s body.

He isn’t really thinking when he lets his hand slip under the band of Kenma’s gym suit; he grips his thighs, then strokes through the fabric of Kenma’s black underwear.

Kenma winces, softly biting Shouyou’s lower lip.

Shouyou stops.

He breaks the frantic kisses for a moment to look up at the other, almost apologetically. 

“Uhm,” he licks his lips, “Is it okay if I…?”

Kenma looks down, biting his own lower lip. It’s very pink and a little swollen.

It’s a sight that Shouyou likes very much.

Kenma nods. “Yes, Shouyou. You can… ah, undress too… I can help.”

 

Shouyou’s ears are burning.

He kisses the other’s forehead, silently thanking him for his patience.

With uncertain fingers, he pulls down Kenma’s trousers and lets them slide to his ankles. He watches as the other boy steps out of them gracefully. Kenma stands in front of him in only his black briefs, all long legs and slender arms and long, unkempt hair.

Kenma silently reaches out to help Shouyou, who is clumsily fumbling with his own clothes, too busy staring to really pay attention to what he’s doing.

 

They haven’t seen each other completely naked, yet.

They’ve been close to each other in their underwear; they’ve jerked off together at the same time, side by side, one time after a making out session that had become too heated.

Shouyou knows that he isn’t ready for much more, not yet. The right time will come… maybe.

He likes Kenma, but he isn’t sure it will be with him.

Yeah, he likes Kenma… Kenma is really cute, and being close to him feels very nice.

There’s a part of Shouyou’s brain who is really… _curious_. Curious to see, to touch, _more_ of the other’s body. More…

 

Kenma pushes one of his knees between Shouyou’s legs, slowly pressing one pointed knee against his groin. The pressure doesn’t hurt; but it sends an electric spike of pleasure and frustration down Shouyou’s spine, making him rock his hips toward the other.

Kenma just shakes his head, pushing the curtain of half-dyed hair behind his shoulder. Their noses touch as his hands slide down to rest on Shouyou’s ass, grabbing and caressing the toned flesh.

Hinata groans softly.

Desire sparks up inside of him; it ignites the blood in his veins and makes him feel even dizzier, elated, unsteady on his feet.

 

“Shouyou…”

He feels one of Kenma’s hands slip inside his boxers, palming up his member. Naked skin on naked skin.

Hinata holds his breath.

He feels dizzy, tense, electric.

His whole body vibrating, throbbing. He opens his mouth to _ask_ for something, but he can’t—

 

Kenma’s fingers glide – just barely, so softly – over his length, brushing the tip.

 

Shouyou whimpers.

He comes, the tip of his reddened member barely poking out of the fabric band.

It splurts on Kenma’s hand and it stains his own boxers and the inside of his thigh.

 

He gasps.

“Kenma… I’m sorry!”

Kenma tilts his head to one side. Again, he does that slow, secret smile that only Shouyou ever sees, his catlike eyes fixed on him.

“It’s alright” he says slowly, reassuringly. Allowing Hinata to breathe again and let out a small, relieved laugh.

Kenma brushes his cheek with the back of his hand.

“Shouyou… let’s start again?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really sure what to think about this chapter.  
> I don't know why I chose to depict their relationship as a "casual sex" kind of deal... I like the idea of Kenma and Shouyou traditionally dating and being happy as a couple, but for this piece, I just felt like going for a more uncertain and slightly bittersweet feeling.


	3. Gentle (Tsukishima/Hinata)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s completely coincidental that Kei is standing next to Hinata when the accident happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being a little longer than I intended. Since these are supposed to be "bite-sized" little pieces that can be read quickly, I apologize and I promise to keep the incoming chapters a little shorter. :)
> 
> Be warned that the following story contains a non-graphic description of a small knife cut, and blood is mentioned.

It’s completely _coincidental_ that Kei is standing next to Hinata when the accident happens.

 

It’s not like he’s keeping an eye on _him,_ specifically.

It’s just that Kei is the one who brought the small foldable table from home, and his parents are going to be pissed if it’s damaged; he just wants to make sure that none of his troublesome and easily excitable teammates get too carried away. That’s all.

 

It’s early in the morning, an hour before the beginning of classes.  

They’re in the gym, all of them, to celebrate Nishinoya’s birthday.

There’s the whole team, and then Ukai-san, Takeda-sensei, and Shimizu.

It was Hinata who first came up with the idea of throwing a surprise party for their _libero_ ; Daichi, Sugawara, Asahi and Tanaka quickly and enthusiastically joined in.

At first they feared that they wouldn’t be authorized to throw a party inside the gym. Luckily, Takeda-sensei managed to get clearance, under the conditions that they must make sure to clean everything up and not be late for their courses.

Over the course of the week, every member of the team has been given a task. Tsukishima offered to bring the table, mostly because that’s something he already had lying around the house and he didn’t feel like running around on errands in his free time. Yamaguchi bought plastic dishes and forks.

So now they’re all gathered around the plastic table that Kei set up on one side of the court. Everyone is smiling and holding their breath, buzzing with excitement.

Noya lets out an incredulous exclamation when Daichi and Suga bring in the cake.

It was made by the two of them plus Hinata and Asahi, even though none of them really knows much about baking. It doesn’t matter, because Noya-san steps closer to the table with wide eyes, almost in a trance. He’s grinning widely, and for once he’s speechless.

“Come on, blow the candles!” Sugawara invites him, clapping his hands.

Noya looks around at every one of them and then nods forcefully.

With an overdramatic bow, he leans over the cake and blows out all the candles in one breath.

Applause and cheerful shouts of congratulations explode throughout the group, thundering against the walls.

 

It’s a happy moment, Kei admits it to himself. The surprise has been successful; Noya is happy, Suga and Daichi are smiling, Asahi and Tanaka are noisily proclaiming their affection for their friend and they look like they’re about to cry.

Kei finds himself standing next to Kageyama and Hinata, close to the table, on the far right side of the group. Hinata is jumping up and down, grumbling about the fact that he can’t see.

Noya turns to him and drags him closer.

The _libero_ throws an arm around Hinata’s shoulders.

“Hey, Hinata, wanna help me cut the cake?”

Tsukishima winces. All of a sudden, he’s feeling as if a knot has been tied in his throat.

He instinctively turns around, looking for Yamaguchi to distract him; but his friend is busy looking at the scene and isn’t paying attention to him.

Meanwhile, Hinata smiles big and bright at Noya-san and then nods solemnly.

“Yes! Let’s do it!”

He wraps his fingers around the handle of the knife that is sitting next to the cake. He lifts it up carefully, while everyone’s eyes are fixated on him and Nishinoya.

 

It happens very quickly.

Tsukishima probably should have seen this coming, because _of course_.

The redhead is cutting the second slice when he suddenly drops the knife and lets out a small sound of pain.

“Ah… dammit…”

 

Everyone rushes around him.

“Hinata! … Are you ok?”

Nishinoya grabs his wrist, trying to take a look at the damage. From where he’s standing, Tsukishima catches a glimpse of red on the palm of Hinata’s left hand.

The redhead is weakly trying to protest that it’s nothing, it’s just a scratch. The attention probably feels more overwhelming than the wound itself.

“Anyone has a band-aid? Do you need to go the infirmary?!”

“No, no, I’m ok, it’s fine…”

 

Kei doesn’t think.

Not really.

He pushes Kageyama aside, earning an annoyed grunt from him, and strides toward Hinata.

He grabs Hinata by the shoulder.

“It’s alright, I’m taking him. Everyone, please continue," Kei declares, in the calmest, most disinterested tone he can manage.

Before anyone can fully react, he’s already pushing his smaller teammates outside the gym.

 

 

“Hey... what… Tsukishima, I’m fine!”

Kei ignores him until they’re far away enough, the two of them standing in the middle of a corridor drowned in semi-darkness.

“Can I take a look?” he finally asks.

Hinata looks up at him. His cheeks are flushed and puffed up, he’s half-ready to start protesting again.  

He’s stubbornly keeping his arms crossed; at last, after a few seconds, he hesitantly stretches out his left arm in front of Kei, with the palm of his hand facing up.

Kei stalls for a moment, then he takes the small hand between his own.

The skin is covered in bruises, and there are small calluses on Hinata’s small fingers; but Tsukishima doesn’t focus on those now. Instead he examines the small cut on the injunction between his index and thumb.

Just like Hinata said, it doesn’t look too worrying. It’s only a few millimeters long and it doesn’t seem too deep. It probably stings, but it should heal soon enough.

Still, Kei notices that Hinata is very carefully avoiding to glance at the cut directly – and now that he’s not yelling and struggling, his face looks pale.

 

Kei lets go of Shouyou’s hand.

He clears his throat. “It needs to be washed and disinfected, but you’re not going to die”, he declares, curtly.

He tries to sound confident, because impulsively dragging Hinata away was his idea, but now he’s not sure he would know how to react if Hinata were to start having a full-blown panic attack right there and then.

He continues, “… This is very lucky for me, since I’ll get to keep seeing you try to catch the ball with your face.” Kei tries to make the jab sound playful instead of mean-spirited, and fails.

Hinata glares at him.

“… Shut up!”

 

Kei runs one hand through his own hair. “So, do you want to go to the infirmary?”

Hinata turns serious. He worries at his bottom lip with his teeth and risks a glance at the cut. It still seems to be bleeding a bit.

“… Yes. Ok.”

Shouyou falls silent, but he doesn’t move.

Kei hesitates. He swallows.

He clears his throat. “Do you… want me to come with you?”

Shouyou looks at him, a little warily, as if he doesn’t know if Tsukishima is making fun of him again.

“O-ok!” he exclaims. “… But I can walk by myself!” he adds, quickly; to prove it, he starts stomping down the deserted hallway.

Kei snorts under his breath and starts following him, quickly catching up with his longer legs.

 

 

Like Kei expected, it turns out that Hinata’s health is under no immediate threat.

Luckily, the school nurse has already arrived. She washes and cleans the small wound, then wraps a band-aid over it. She gives Hinata a glass of water and makes him sit on one of the empty beds.

The infirmary is quiet. Blades of soft, white light cut through the windows’ blinds. They’re the only people in the room.

Tsukishima stands next to Hinata with his shoulders a little slumped.

The two boys both remain silent.

Hinata drinks his water and a bit of color seems to return on his cheeks.

Kei didn’t expect someone like Hinata to be afraid of a bit of blood, but this isn’t something he’s going to comment on.

Kei finally starts to feel relieved. Maybe he overreacted, but he just wanted to make sure that his stupid, messy teammate was okay.

(No, he overreacted _period_ ; but that’s something he’ll think about later, in the safety of his room, where he will have the time to metabolize all the embarrassment. Right now, he doesn’t really want to think about how he must have looked in front of the others, all… _protective_ and whatever. Tsukishima Kei coming to the rescue of the little ball of energy who shouldn’t ever be allowed around any sharp objects…)

 

Hinata lays down the glass on his lap, holding onto it with his right hand.

“Noya-senpai…” he mutters. “… I made him and everyone worry. I messed up his cake…”

He’s looking embarrassed, and even a bit guilty, now.

Kei feels a rush of… _something_ that he can’t quite define.

All he knows is that such a serious look has no business on Hinata’s happy, earnest face; not for something like this.

“I, uhm… I’m sure Noya will understand. You didn’t do it on purpose, Hinata…”

Damn it, he’s not good at reassuring people. It’s not something he usually does. Unless it’s Yamaguchi, maybe… but Yamaguchi isn’t Hinata.

Kei shifts his weight from one foot to another, not knowing what to do with his body and his considerable height. He feels like he’s taking too much space simply by being there.

He tries again: “Do you want to stay here a while?”

Hinata toys with the empty glass, rotating it between his fingers.

“Just five minutes,” he says, softly, after a beat.

Kei nods.

“I can bring you a slice. I’ll tell the others that you’re fine.”

He moves to walk toward the door.

 

All of a sudden, Hinata’s chin snaps up and big brown eyes stare right at him.

“Tsukishima.” Hinata spins the glass faster. The silence between them seems to stretch like a rubber band. “Wait. Wait… for me?”

It’s not a question, it’s not supposed to be one, but the phrase ends on an uncertain note regardless.

Tsukishima stops in his tracks.

“Ok. Sure.”

Kei tries to relax his shoulders and unclench his fists. He doesn’t know why he’s so tense.

“Tell me when you’re ready, then.”

 

 

A few minutes later, the glass is empty.

Hinata jumps off the bed, bouncing lightly on his feet. He seems to have retrieved his usual liveliness as he bows and profusely thanks the nurse. Kei crosses his arms and keeps watching him, just in case.

They walk side by side. At one point, Hinata seems to be losing his balance and he dangerously wobbles to one side, bumping into Kei’s hip.

Kei holds him up with one hand on his shoulder. He has to bend down to do that; Shouyou leans heavily against him for a moment.

Kei tenses up again.

“Hey, you’re not gonna faint on me, are you?”

Hinata blushes.

“I’m not fainting! … I’m just a little dizzy.”

“Alright, alright… if you say so.”

Tangled orange curls tickle Kei’s chin. He breathes in, without realizing it.

Hinata’s hair feels soft. It smells good, a sweet, vaguely fruity scent, that makes something ache in Kei’s chest. He holds back any snide remark and doesn’t scold the other boy, instead allowing him to rest against him for a while.

They must look even more ridiculous than before, standing like this in the middle of the hallway. It’s not even a hug. But Hinata is warm, and when he finally pulls away, the air around Kei suddenly feels emptier and colder.

 

Hinata looks up at him with those brown eyes that can shine with excitement at the smallest thing.

Then he smiles – it’s the huge, bright smile that Kei saw him gift to Noya-senpai earlier.

The smile Hinata makes when his prodigious feet spring him flying into the air with an incredible jump. The smile he makes every time his fingers touch the ball, like it’s something miraculous.

“Thank you, _Tsukki—”_

Kei’s heart skips a beat – and then it starts racing.

Hinata interrupts himself, wide-eyed.

He covers his mouth with his hand as if he can’t completely believe what he just said. The nickname slipped out of his mouth naturally, without thinking; but he never calls Tsukishima that.

It makes Kei suddenly want to just scoop up that petite, lithe body of his in his arms, and carry Hinata somewhere far away. Some place where they can be alone… at least for a little while longer.

It won’t happen. For a moment, at least, it is a nice fantasy.

 

Instead, Kei breathes out the air he has been holding inside his chest and throat.

He senses the tension build up inside Hinata, as he waits for an annoyed reaction.

Kei smiles.

He reaches out and pats Shouyou’s head, then deliberately ruffles his already untamed hair.

He could jokingly threaten him, forbid him to call him that way in front of the others. He doesn’t do that.

“Let’s go, before they eat all the cake without us.”

Kei throws his hands inside his pockets and starts walking, turning his back to Hinata.

Hinata follows.

“Yes… _Tsukki!”_ he repeats, again, this time with a shade of mischievousness to his tone.

Kei bites his lower lip.

He is blushing. He definitely is, judging by the heat he can feel on his ears, under his bangs, and behind the frame of his glasses. He thanks the empty, dark corridor for making it harder to notice, and he hopes it will fade by the time they’re back inside the gym.

 

 

When they arrive, everyone focuses on Hinata, allowing Kei to silently move to the sidelines. Before anyone can notice any change, the usual mask of aloofness is back on his face.

He and Hinata don’t spend another moment alone that day. Kei pointedly avoids looking at him as much as possible, even during practice.

Every time his gaze falls on the redhead, though, he feels that heat again on the back of his neck, as if he’s the one being stared at.

The sound of Hinata’s voice calling him _Tsukki_ lingers on his mind.

It takes a few hours for Kei’s heart to stop racing every time he thinks about it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the "soft" scene between Tsukishima and Hinata was supposed to have a different setting. I had originally planned for it to happen on the pullman as they returned from a match, with the focus still being on Hinata's soft hair and pleasant smell. I ended up changing it because I accidentally cut my own finger a couple days ago, and I thought why the hell not, might as well incorporate it in the story.  
> (Cliché fanfic gimmick to bring characters together is cliché. I'm sorry. I know.)


	4. Nest in the thunderstorm (Sugawara&Hinata)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata has a moment of crisis after a bad day at practice.  
> Sugawara tries to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The interaction between Shouyou and Koushi can be read as either platonic or romantic, as you prefer.
> 
> There's also a hint of KageHina, probably, if you want to see it that way. 
> 
> TW: non-graphic mention of vomit, minor panic/crying attack
> 
> Please let me know if there are any mistakes, both in regards to the language and to references to the source material.

“Hinata?”

Koushi’s voice rises hesitantly against the walls in the empty restroom.

When he walks past the doorway, he isn’t sure what to expect; in fact, he isn’t even sure his teammate is there in the first place.

After today’s practice, Hinata looked unusually serious and quiet. He helped with the clean-up, doing his part without complaints and without partaking in the usual chatter and jokes initiated by Noya and Tanaka. Koushi normally wouldn’t have thought much of it; after all, even someone as energetic as Hinata can get tired from time to time. But then his teammate exited the gym and everyone thought he’d gone home, except that his clothes are still in the locker room and his bike is parked outside in the same spot where Hinata put it in the morning.

The vice-captain glances around, carefully lowering his back to take a peek under the doors of the stalls.  

Finally, when he stops in front of the last stall, he sees two familiar small feet in a pair of white shoes.

 

Koushi raises his arm to knock on the door, then instinctively refrains from doing so.

He clears his throat.

“Hinata…?”, he repeats, tentatively.

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t… this.

A very distinct sound.

A _sob._

It’s muffled by the wooden panel, but it’s loud enough that Koushi knows he’s not mistaken. Then comes another, preceded by a wheezing intake of air.

Standing in front of the stall, with his hands on his hips, Sugawara bites his lip.

Finally, Hinata answers from inside:

“I… I’m here. I-I’m coming!”

His voice sounds shaky and weak; Koushi can almost feel the effort it takes for Hinata to keep his tone even, to make it sound like there’s nothing unusual.

It’s fortunate that he’s the one who took it upon himself to go look for Hinata, he thinks. The others mean well, and it’s not like they would make fun of Hinata, not at such a time; but if it had been Asahi, or Noya… or Kageyama… Koushi feels that Shouyou wouldn’t want to be seen like this by one of them.

If it’s him, though… Koushi hopes that this is the right course of action.

 

He steps closer to the door and decisively plants his feet on the floor.

“It’s me, Sugawara. Just wanted to check if you’re alright.”

He pauses for a moment, thinking about the best strategy. “We’re the last ones in the gym. Noya-san wanted to get food and the others followed.”

Yes, that’s good, he thinks to himself. He doesn’t want to pressure the younger boy even more. There must be a reason, after all, if he’s hiding in there.

He hears a ruffle of fabric and senses the movement of Hinata rising up from a crouching position on the floor.

A long moment of silence.

Sugawara waits.

Then, finally, the door opens.

Shouyou stands in front of him.

 

Hinata’s cheeks and his nose are red. His hair is even messier than usual, orange curls sticking out in all directions.

When he finally looks back at Koushi, though, his brown eyes are red-rimmed, but surprisingly dry.

Hinata looks embarrassed. He gestures with one hand towards his belly. “… My stomach. Didn’t feel well,” he murmurs.

With his eyes cast down, he tries to move quickly past Sugawara; but the vice-captain stops him by landing one hand on his shoulder.

“… Hey. Shouyou.”

Hinata stands uneasily, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“We have to lock up the gym…” he says, meekly, a pale shade of his usual upbeat attitude.

Sugawara shakes his head. “There’s no hurry. I can do that by myself, later. Would you like to wash your face?”

A beat.  

Finally, Shouyou nods.

Well, at least this is a small improvement. Koushi hesitates for a second, then softly leans one hand over the upper part of Hinata’s back, between his shoulder blades.

A soft touch; not pushing, not pulling. Just… guiding him, letting Shouyou know that he’s there if he wants.

Hinata moves of his own accord, slowly, towards one of the sinks.

 

As Koushi stands next to him and watches Hinata puts his hands under the streaming water, the pungent, acid smell of vomit starts to fill up his nostrils. He hadn’t noticed before, because he was too busy looking at the other, but now he can feel it clearly. He isn’t too bothered by the smell, in itself, but it ties his stomach in a knot and it makes him feel a new peak of anxiety and worry.

Hinata dutifully washes his face, like Koushi suggested, with gestures that are a little too rough, slapping his cheeks and rubbing too forcefully on the skin.

Koushi gently puts one hand on his wrists, making Hinata lower his arms.

“Drink some water,” he suggests. “You need to stay hydrated.”

The most practical option, obviously, would be for him to go get one of their water bottles and bring it back to Hinata; for some reason, though, Koushi feels that this isn’t the right moment to leave him alone.

Hinata glances at him, then nods again, silently.

It’s this quietness that is the most disconcerting thing about his behavior, the one thing that’s really unusual. Finally, though, Shouyou leans forward and takes a few sips before closing the tap.

 

After he’s done, Hinata turns around and stares at Sugawara. His arms are dangling at his sides, his minute shoulders are arched forward.

He look so uncharacteristically _helpless_ that, for one moment, it’s Koushi who feels close to crying instead of him.

Hinata starts to speak: “It’s just…” A heavy breath. “I-I couldn’t do it today. I tried so many times, but I k-kept making mistakes…”

The lump in Sugawara’s throat isn’t getting any smaller, but the vice-captain ignores it. This isn’t about him, after all.

“Ah, is this about today’s practice, then…?”

Hinata nods and continues: “I hit Tanaka-senpai. And then I-I tried to do what Noya-senpai said, but I couldn’t… I don’t know why…” He stops again. Now his eyes are glossy. He clenches and unclenches his fists.

Sugawara holds his breath. He lets him speak, lets him take his time and look for the words he needs.

“… Kageyama too, he was so angry…”

The vice-captain watches as Hinata slowly slides down, like a deflating balloon. The boy falls to his knees the floor.

Sugawara bows his head and bends his knees, sitting down next to him.

 

Their shoulders brush. The restroom is quiet. Not a sound comes from the empty gym, either.

Hinata hugs his legs close to his chest and leans his forehead on his knees.

Koushi scoops closer to him and slides one arm around his shoulders. Hinata is still wearing his volley clothes and his knee pads; the t-shirt is still damp with sweat and the fabric is clinging to his back like another layer of skin.

Outside, a thunder rolls. Sugawara instinctively raises his chin and glances at the window; he hadn’t noticed that it had started raining so heavily. Until it stops, he’d rather not let Hinata go home on his bicycle in this weather.

Without a word, he hugs the younger player.

He holds him there; Hinata’s head resting on his chest, Koushi’s arms steadily wrapped around the boy’s chest, but without holding him too tightly. With one hand, he starts to caress Hinata’s back.

Slow, repetitive movements. He finds a rhythm and falls into it. He focuses on the way Hinata’s breath start to slow down, to become more and more regular.

Hinata hugs him back.

Koushi almost wasn’t expecting it at this point; but he feels Hinata’s fingers sink into the skin of his forearms and then his teammate clings to him, putting his arms around Suga’s neck. Shouyou’s forehead is buried deeper into his shoulder.

 

Another sob. Again, it’s that sound from before that is dry, tearless, but trembling and deep.

Koushi keeps rubbing Hinata’s back. Methodically, he keeps working with his fingertips to lessen the tension in the younger boy’s stiff muscles.

“No one is angry at you, Shouyou,” he says, softly. “I promise you that.”

Hinata shivers. It occurs to Koushi that he must be cold after the intense effort during practice.

Slowly, carefully, he breaks the contact to remove the sweatshirt he’s wearing. He wraps it around Hinata’s shoulders.

 

Shouyou keeps looking at the floor. He changes position, however, crossing his legs, and he bounces back and forth a little.

To Koushi, the small movements seem like a positive sign. They’re closer to the energy from the Hinata he knows; it’s as if he’s starting to truly come back into his body.

“Why do you think Kageyama was angry?” the older boy inquires, gently. “He didn’t say anything bad, did he?”

Hinata sniffles.

“It’s… it’s that thing he does. He didn’t yell. But when I… the last time I missed his toss, he… glared at me. He was furious.”

Koushi rubs his own bottom lip with his thumb, thinking.

It’s true, today wasn’t the best practice they’ve had lately, by any means, and yes, Hinata did make several mistakes. Mistakes he doesn’t usually make. But he and the rest of the teammates corrected him, and he rushed to try again every time, like always.

Yes, near the end everyone was becoming a little tense and more tired than usual, but no one took it out on Hinata, right? Not even Kageyama.

 _Kageyama was angry_. Was he…? Annoyed maybe, yes, but furious?

Koushi can admit to himself that while he’s usually good at reading the atmosphere between his teammates, he will never have that same connection to Kageyama that Hinata seems to have. It’s something almost supernatural, something like _telepathy,_ a natural, instinctive link that flows between the two of them through their gazes and their gestures. Hinata is so upset because a single glance from Kageyama had a deeper meaning to him, and a deeper impact, than what anyone else of them could understand.

 

He pats Shouyou’s right arm.

“Kageyama knows that you’re trying really hard. We all know, Hinata. Look at how much you’ve improved!”

Hinata turns his head a little to peek at him. Koushi smiles warmly at him, then nods emphatically.

“You put all your energy into becoming a better player every day… and so does Kageyama. He used to get so impatient when someone made a mistake because he wanted to play perfectly and he thought they were ruining his game. He acted as if he was playing by himself. Remember? But now he’s learning how to be in a team, isn’t he?”

Koushi relaxes, adjusting his back against the wall. Hinata keeps listening.

“Now Kageyama knows that when you’re by his side, he can play better and become much stronger than he could ever be on his own. If he gets annoyed, it’s because he wants you to play next to him at the best of your abilities.”

Shouyou’s eyes grow wider. It’s obvious in that moment that he’s preparing to make a disbelieving comment, so Sugawara doesn’t let him.

“You had a bad day, Hinata. It’s alright. Tomorrow will be better, I promise.”

He ruffles Shouyou’s hair and looks at the way his brown eyes finally fill with tears. Shouyou’s lower lip trembles, and he nearly jumps into Koushi’s arms. This time he’s the one who hugs the vice-captain first, very tightly.

 

Hinata sobs into his chest. Now they’re actual warm tears, that wet the front of Koushi’s shirt. Koushi doesn’t mind.

He keeps hugging him, but more softly now, his touches barely lingering on Hinata’s arms and shoulders.

He lets out a small sigh as relief washes over him.

Another rumble of thunder, another flash of lightning outside the restroom’s windows. He leaves small caresses on Hinata’s nape, where small coils of orange hair are still sticky with sweat.

Shouyou continues to cry for a little while, until the sobs progressively quiet down. Little by little, his breath becomes slower and steadier again.

Koushi doesn’t say anything. Hinata’s body stops shaking; when the redhead pulls back, the skin on his face is blotchy and his lashes are wet, but he’s smiling a little.

He rubs his left eye with the back of one hand, then shakes his head like a wet puppy. He seems a little surprised at his own outburst, but also calmer.

“Thank you, Sugawara-san,” he says, very solemnly, still smiling.

Koushi leans forward and gently pats his head.

He smiles back at him.

“ _Don’t mind,_ Hinata.”  

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Suga but I don't think I have his characterization pinned down very well... Aside from his Team Mom reputation, both in-universe and in fandom, he can be snarky and even strict sometimes. Still, I like to think that if he saw one of his teammates cry, he would try his best to be comforting and encouraging.
> 
> I suck at comforting and cheering people up IRL, I never know what to say... so if Koushi's speech is stupid and corny, you know why I'm to blame.


	5. Missed calls (Oikawa/Kageyama)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama's question changed mid-sentence: "Oikawa, are you drunk?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uhm...  
> This one happened mostly because I've been listening to too much Arctic Monkeys lately, that's all there is to it. It was particularly inspired by the songs "Do I wanna know?" and "Why'd you only call me when you're high?"  
> It's an AU/what-if scenario set after high school. Kageyama and Oikawa are a little older, around 19 and 21 respectively, and they're still playing volleyball, occasionally as opponents in friendly matches. They have an ongoing... "thing" that is unsatisfying and undefined, but I deliberately left the details ambiguous.  
> Oikawa isn't a very reliable POV. Also, he's drunk.  
> This chapter ended up a bit more angsty than I had originally planned, lol :D
> 
> As usual, enjoy! Let me know if there's anything to be fixed.

The phone rang out.

It rang.

It rang.

 

From outside the opened window, in the alleyway several meters below, a sudden burst of drunken laughter.

Tooru’s head snapped upwards in a reflex movement; he glanced distractedly for a moment at the grey wall of the building opposite his, before his attention was once again recaptured by the silence in his right ear.

The phone kept ringing.

He grit his teeth. His palms were sweating. His left hand, the one who wasn’t holding the phone, was laid out on his knee, palm down, with the fingers spread out. He raised it in front of his face and noticed that it was shaking.

_Ridiculous. Just… answer!_

He held his breath. The buzzing silence continued, interrupted at regular intervals by the ringing sound.

He was about to give up, ready to hang up and just throw the phone somewhere, preferably against a wall – he was expecting the call to go to voicemail by now – when a low, masculine voice finally filled the quiet.

“… Hello? Yes?”

Tooru’s heart jumped into his throat, beating wildly.

Without realizing it, he stood up from the edge of his bed where he’d been sitting.

“Hello? ‘s Kageyama Tobio,” the voice repeated, as if the name needed to be stated.

As if calling someone in the middle of the night was just something that Oikawa would do without knowing exactly who it was and why.

Tooru licked his lips and straightened his back, like maybe a better posture might help him regain his composure and help him push the words out of his mouth.  

“Hello, _King_!”

Well, at least sounding confident had been his _intention._ His voice sounded too high, a little strangled. It wasn’t the haughty mocking tone that he had planned, but he hoped it was close enough that the other man would be deceived.

 

On the other side, a pause.

“Oikawa-san?” Tooru heard what he thought was a rustle of fabric, and maybe nails scratching on skin, then Kageyama added: “It’s… three in the morning.”

Tobio’s voice sounded slow and groggy, a little disoriented; and he wasn’t whispering, so… it could be assumed that he had been sleeping. _Alone?_ Alone, Tooru decided in his mind. He pondered the possibility of asking directly; but he wasn’t sure, in that moment, that he would be able to pass it off as a joke.

The smile that curled his lips upwards was involuntarily soft.

“Ah, did I wake you from your beauty slumber, my prince?”

He could practically see, no, feel the way Kageyama’s eyebrows were knitted in a puzzled frown. He imagined the way his blue eyes might be scanning the darkness of his own room, searching for an explanation, trying to guess without being able to see him.

He heard Kageyama clear his throat.

“... How did you get my number?”

 

Oikawa rubbed his free hand against his face. Great, now he was sweating there, too.

He started pacing around the small bedroom, with fast but unsteady steps, wobbling from side to side.

“Ow, that’s so cold, Tobio- _chan_!” he exclaimed, dramatically. “You know, your friend, the little shorty… he’s much nicer than _you_ are!” Near the end of the sentence, he started to slur his words a bit.

Tooru hiccupped, and covered his mouth with his hand.

“Hinata… Hinata gave it to you? I see.” Kageyama seemed more awake now. Serious to the point of ridicule, as usual.

“Oikawa-san, why are you…” Another noisy breath being held, though Tooru wasn’t sure this time whether it was Kageyama’s or his own.

Kageyama’s question changed mid-sentence: “Oikawa, are you _drunk?”_

 

Oikawa licked his lips again. His tongue tasted bitter and rough inside his mouth.

He let out a small, joyless chuckle.

“Mm… you’re worried about me? Then how come…” getting the words to come out was getting harder and harder “How come you don’t pick up the phone, uhm, King?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You didn’t call _m_ _e_ ,” Kageyama sighed. “What happened is that you called Hinata four times tonight and every time that he answered, you hanged up on him. He thought it was a joke or something.”

Ah… there it was, Tooru thought. The coldness that wasn’t impolite, wasn’t downright hostile, but it wasn’t kindness either. Kageyama didn’t sound angry, just mildly exasperated.

Oh, Oikawa could’ve riled him up if he’d wanted to – if he’d been more lucid, he would have known how to awaken actual anger, actual fire. That at least would’ve been a more satisfying reaction. But for once, this wasn’t what he was trying to do.

He was seized by a moment of dizziness and he flopped back down on the mattress, the darkness of his bedroom spinning around him in a bluish haze of shadows.

It took a while for his brain to register that Kageyama _had_ been with the shrimpy earlier, after all, even if he wasn’t right now. He had suspected as much; that was the reason he had been calling Hinata in the first place... he’d wanted to know if they were out together, he’d wanted to ask Hinata to let him speak with _Tobio-chan._ And, as the King had helpfully pointed out, he’d never gotten through with it, always lacking the courage in the middle of each attempt.

“A _joke_?” Tooru snapped, before he could stop himself. God, he needed to puke. “Do you think I ever _joke_ with you, Tobio-chan?”

 

Silence. Again.

The only clue that Kageyama hadn’t ended the call was the faint, but present, sound of his unsteady breath directly inside Tooru’s ear. Close. Far away.

He lied down on his back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and passed the phone into the other hand.

He was still wearing his clothes from earlier at the club, he thought; his favorite pair of skintight jeans and the black cropped t-shirt. That was why his skin seemed to be itching as if it was on fire. That, and the alcohol, and the fact that Kageyama was several miles away instead of being in that room with him, and they were on the phone and he wasn’t saying anything.

Then, right when Tooru had almost stopped expecting it, the other young man spoke again:

“Oikawa… is there a reason why you called me?”

 

The air was abruptly sucked out of Oikawa’s lungs.

Kageyama was _playing with him._ He had to be, pretending not to know what this was all about when in reality Tooru was sure, he was certain, that he’d understood perfectly. Kageyama was just lying, he thought ominously, trying to trick him just to humiliate him.

He was playing and volleyball was one thing, but this one was a game that Oikawa didn’t want to play, not now, because he couldn’t win if Kageyama pretended to be dumb and oblivious and innocent…

“You want me to say it first, don’t you,” he hissed, harsher than he wanted. “I want to see you.” Hiccup. “Come to my house…”

An incredulous snort, a choked out sound. Kageyama’s expression in that moment was probably very funny.

“What… Oikawa, I was _sleeping._ I’m not coming to your house at fucking three thirty.”

Oikawa shivered, his whole body trembling.

“And I am _telling_ you that I _want you_ to come,” Tooru said, more whiny than commanding, drawling the sentence like a petulant child.

Without thinking about it, his right hand yanked down the zip of his jeans, and slipped inside his boxers.

A new low, but it wasn’t like Kageyama had to know.

His fingers slid around the length of his member and he whimpered, realizing with only the tiniest trace of shame that he had been half-hard and leaking all over his pants, probably since the moment he’d started the call.

His cock twitched and hardened as he bit his lip, thinking of calloused hands with long, elegant fingers, and lips that were chapped and warm against his. Tooru lifted his hips and arched his back and he thought of a sloppy, adrenaline-fueled kiss against a wall in a corner of an empty locker room right after a match.

He bent his knees, searching for the right angle so that this would be over more quickly.

He gripped his dick harder around the base and started pumping faster, rough and sloppy.

At this point Kageyama would know, and he didn’t care, he couldn’t stop.

“Tobio-chan. _Tobio,_ ” he tried again. His voice was soft and broken. As if the use of the simple, intimate first name would make things better and not worse. “Come here. Just come to _me._ ”

 

Wet, warm, aching, his cheeks sweating and burning. Behind his shut eyelids, Tooru thought of dark blue eyes that always looked at him like an opponent; and he thought of the rushed encounters that they never spoke about, in a reeking bathroom stall or in the back street behind a club before reuniting with their friends.

“You don’t really want me there,” Kageyama said, finally. He sounded more gentle than before. He said it matter-of-factly, as if was obvious to him and therefore it had to be obvious to Oikawa as well; but he sounded a bit more uncertain, too. Maybe he really was _that_ naïve after all.

If he knew what Tooru was doing, he didn’t say.

Tooru gasped for air. He couldn’t come. Too tired, too drunk. And he was close, close…

“Tomorrow, then,” he pleaded, breathlessly.

“See me tomorrow, Kageyama…”

 

The mad racing of his heartbeats. The wait for an answer seemed to expand infinitely into the haze of his drunken mind.

Heat twisted between his hips, nearly turning the edge of orgasm into an unpleasant sting.

Kageyama swallowed.

“Tomorrow,” he seemed to yield. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Oikawa-san.”

The honorific again. Tooru gasped, desperate.

His knees gave in, dropping the weight of his tensed up thighs and his hips, and he came messily over his hand and his stomach and the sheet under his body.

He abandoned his head against the pillow, breathing heavily into the phone through his clenched jaw.

The heat quickly started to abandon his oversensitive skin, leaving it cold and clammy.

He blinked. His lashes were wet, with sweat or tears.

“… Kageyama?”

This time, no breath but his own to disrupt the silence.

Tooru removed the phone from his ear and stared at the display, just to be sure.

 

Kageyama had hung up.

 

 


	6. Weirdness (Yamaguchi/Tsukishima)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t like the movie, Tsukki?” Tadashi whispers. Despite the apparent sweetness in his voice, Kei knows that the question is anything but innocent.  
> “I am trying to watch,” Tsukishima lies, desperately scrambling to maintain a stoic façade.  
> He’s never going to capitulate, he’ll never willingly show Yamaguchi how turned on he already is, just because of something like this. Never, even though breathing evenly is already starting to prove pretty difficult.  
> -  
> (Or: In which Yamaguchi is weird, and Tsukishima is probably weirder.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of licking and saliva.  
> You've been warned.

They’re sitting together on the couch in Tsukishima’s living room. It’s late in the afternoon, a dark, rainy October Wednesday.

They’re next to each other, close, but not touching. They’re watching some American noir film from the 50’s that Kei doesn’t know; it’s Yamaguchi who brought the DVD even though he’s already seen it. He said that it’s one of his favorites and that Kei needs to educate himself, so Kei shrugged and just let him decide.

Curled up in his spot, Yamaguchi doesn’t seem to be paying a lot of attention. Tadashi is sitting with his legs tucked under his body, and the images dancing on the screen cast white lights on his face. Whenever Kei occasionally glances at him, he’s often fiddling with his cell phone or nibbling on his thumbs, like he does sometimes despite Kei’s efforts to get him to stop.

Kei looks away. The movie is quite slow and a little boring; it’s not really for him, to be honest, but they’re watching it with subtitles, so at least he can get some practice with his English.

 

Kei takes another scoop from the bowl of strawberry ice cream that they bought together earlier after school. Tadashi offered to pay this time and Kei rarely passes up an opportunity for ice cream, cold weather or not.

He carefully savors the artificial, sugary sweetness with a trace of sour, closing his mouth around the cold metal spoon. He likes how it dissolves on his tongue, how his palate almost aches and his throat becomes numb. The bowl is almost empty, the remaining inch of ice cream is a bubblegum-pink puddle.

Kei drops the spoon inside the bowl and carefully places it on the low wooden coffee table in front of them.

Just as he’s readjusting with his back against the sofa’s headrest, Tadashi scoots closer to him and casually slides an arm around Kei’s shoulders.

Kei casts a half-suspicious glance in his direction, but Tadashi is feigning innocence, staring at the screen and biting on his lower lip. Meanwhile, he lays a hand on Kei’s back and starts absent-mindedly tracing lines and circles in the space between Kei’s shoulder blades.

Kei decides to let him play whatever game he’s decided to play. He goes back to pretending to focus on the movie and relaxes into Tadashi’s touch.

He enjoys the contact of Tadashi’s hands on his back – on every part of his body, really – far more than he’d ever be willing to admit.

Tadashi’s thigh touches his. Tadashi’s skin feels hot through the fabric of the sweatpants he’s wearing. Kei feels the other increasingly closer, senses his slow movements even without watching him.

Yamaguchi nuzzles up against the curve where Kei’s neck and shoulder meet. A tuft of Tadashi’s hair tickles his face, his nose brushes against Kei’s cheek.

Kei swallows and doesn’t move.

Tadashi chuckles, close-mouthed. He gently nudges Kei with his forehead. He wraps both arms around Kei; out of habit, Kei adapts to him, wrestling his left arm free to put it around Tadashi’s waist.

They stay like that, silently, for a while.

Tadashi sighs against him. He seems relaxed, for once, content. His breath is warm and wet, dangerously close to Kei’s ear.

 

The house is quiet. Kei’s mother went out to visit a friend; Akiteru is spending the weekend with them, but at the moment he’s taking a nap upstairs.

It’s not the most ideal situation. Kei is a little more than annoyed at the thought that his brother might walk in on them; they need to be careful, they can’t do anything too risky.

He contains his frustration and tries not to focus on the small shivers that are running down the back of his neck at the slightest touch Tadashi leaves on him.

On the screen, an actress with clear eyes and dark lips and long, wavy hair down to her shoulders is staring at the camera with a smoldering gaze. She is gesturing with a long cigarette holder, clouds of smoke fluttering around her figure.

Then, suddenly, Tadashi’s mouth is on the left side of Kei’s neck – Tadashi kisses there, his mouth open and wet.

Startled, Tsukishima is about to say something, but Tadashi covers his mouth with his hand.

Kei breathes hard against the palm pressing on his lips. The skin is slightly sweaty; he knows that if he were to kiss it or lick it, it would probably taste salty.

Tadashi lets him go and keeps kissing his neck. He leaves a trail of slow, wet kisses on Kei’s throat; he traces the underline of his jaw, then kisses his cheek, and his temple, and the small curls at the beginning of Kei’s hairline.

Heat grows inside the lower part of Kei’s abdomen. His skin feels tingly, electric. His nerves are on fire.

 

He doesn’t know what to do with the rest of his body; he wants to move his hands to touch Yamaguchi better, to hold him tighter, but it’s as if he’s paralyzed.

Silent but determined, Yamaguchi curls his tongue around Kei’s earlobe and this time – this time, _fuck,_ Tsukishima winces and he squeezes both hands between his thighs, feeling like a jolt of electricity and heat in his crotch.

“Yamaguchi…” he growls, a warning.

Yamaguchi pats the shorter hair on his nape, scraping the skin with his fingernails.

“You don’t like the movie, Tsukki?” he whispers. Despite the apparent sweetness in his voice, Kei knows that the question is anything but innocent.

“I am trying to watch,” Tsukishima lies, desperately scrambling to maintain a stoic façade.

He’s never going to capitulate, he’ll never willingly show Yamaguchi how turned on he already is, just because of something like this. Never, even though _breathing_ evenly is already starting to prove pretty difficult.

 

Yamaguchi pulls back. He shifts his weight on the sofa’s cushions; for a moment, Kei almost believes that he’s safe and that he’s not going to fight through the rest of the evening with a half-hard dick.

Then… Yamaguchi’s  lips caress his ear again, and all of a sudden he feels the nearly painful sting of _teeth_ sinking into his earlobe and tugging on the delicate skin.

“Ah…!”

One of his hands jumps on Yamaguchi’s knee and squeezes it. Yamaguchi makes a low, throaty noise, but he gives no sign of wanting to let go.

Kei’s face is on fire, and so is the rest of his body. He tries to freeze, he tries to calm the erratic rhythm of his heartbeats. Yamaguchi is slowly but steadily getting almost on top of him now, and his brain is blank and there’s really nothing he can say or do.

“Yamaguchi, are you—” he stutters, blushing even more.

Yamaguchi’s lean arms encircle his neck. He effortlessly settles in Kei’s lap and straddles him, with his thighs at each side of Kei’s legs.

A warm, wet sensation sends another shiver down Kei’s spine, a vibration that settles somewhere around the small of his back.

Yamaguchi’s tongue is on his neck.

Tadashi pushes him down, putting both hands on his shoulders. He keeps Kei pinned in place with relative ease, despite Kei’s bigger frame, and with more force than one might give him credit for.

He nibs at one particular spot right under Kei’s chin.

Kei keens, shivering. His hands wander over Tadashi’s back and grasp at the woolen sweater.

Yamaguchi licks long, broad stripes on Tsukishima’s neck. He flattens his tongue against Tsukishima’s throat, covering the skin in a warm layer of spit; he mouths at his Adam’s apple with wet lips, sucking in, then teasing with the tip of his tongue again. As he does it, Tadashi is breathing heavily through his nose, air wheezing in and out, while Kei feels the heaving of his chest.

Kei is trembling. He wants to moan again. It shouldn’t feel this good but it does, and he’s helpless.

“Cute, Tsukki” Yamaguchi coos appreciatively, panting in his ear.

Kei let out a shaky curse between gritted teeth, feeling a stain of pre-cum getting bigger on the inside of his underwear.

 

Tadashi pulls away a little. He smiles lazily against Kei’s mouth.

In the spots where he has licked, Kei’s skin is starting to cool off; it feels sticky, prickly, and still sensitive. He’s probably red all over. He doesn’t really mind that much.

He looks at Tadashi.

“… What was _that_ about?” he murmurs.

Tadashi shrugs.

“You taste good,” he offers as an explanation.

Kei raises his eyebrows. “… That’s not a weird thing to say at all.”

Tadashi’s lips are reddened, a bit glossy. He sticks his tongue out at Tsukishima, all pink and slick with spit.

“Well, it’s true,” he says, as he starts crawling towards Tsukishima again.

Tsukishima freezes in a defensive pose, sensing impending danger.

“Yamaguchi, don’t you dare…”

Tadashi leaps on him, insanely quick.

“Don’t complain, Tsukki, you liked it,” he says, almost provocatively.

It’s a low, suggestive voice that is rare for him; even when they’re alone, it’s not often that Tadashi gets this way. Kei doesn’t really know what’s gotten into him today.

His train of thought is abruptly interrupted, however, because now Yamaguchi’s hips are rubbing against his strained cock, and Kei gasps. Just as he’s about to try and kiss Yamaguchi, the pink tip of Yamaguchi’s tongue darts near his cheek again.

 

Kei springs backwards, raising his arms over his face.

Yamaguchi is unrelenting. He grasps at Kei’s wrists to pry them away; his breath is hot on Kei’s neck and one of his knees is planted uncomfortably between Kei’s thighs.

“Yamaguchi, no— don’t _lick_ me—”

They wrestle each other, almost rolling off the couch in the process. Kei hisses breathless threats at Yamaguchi, desperately trying to keep his voice low so that they don’t end up waking his brother up. He alternates between trying to push Tadashi off himself and hiding his face behind one of the cushions, torn away from its usual position on one of the armrest to serve as an improvised shield.

Yamaguchi finally manages to grab a hold of one of his wrists and simultaneously goes to _tickle_ Kei’s belly, knowing fully well that it’s an utter low blow.

Kei gasps and weakly tries to elbow him; but he ends up letting go of the pillow, taken by surprise, and Tadashi seizes the moment to cup his face with both hands.

There’s a moment of silent stasis where they stare at each other: then Yamaguchi smiles triumphantly, _wickedly_ , and it’s the same smug expression that he has sometimes when he decides to steal Tsukki’s food and he defiantly licks all over it to claim it as his own.

Tsukishima glares daggers at him.

“Tadashi, I swear—”

Before Kei can finish his sentence, he lunges forward and plants a decisive lick on the right side of Kei’s face.

Kei flails his hands in the air, uselessly.

Yamaguchi laps at his open mouth.

He licks Kei’s lips with broad strokes, as if he’s trying to really savor him, to take in his taste as deeply as possible.

A new wave of arousal travels through Kei’s body. He feels at the same time elated and weak, and very, very embarrassed at the likely miserable state of his pants.

 

“Yamaguchi!” he protests, with exaggerated outrage.

He presses the palm of one hand against Yamaguchi’s forehead and taps it lightly, giving the other boy a small push backwards.

“Gross, Yamaguchi,” he grumbles.

Yamaguchi’s cheeks are just as flushed as his; Yamaguchi’s eyes are shiny, feverish. His smile is sheepish.

“Sorry, Tsukki…”

Tsukishima glares at him behind his glasses.

“You’re not sorry at all,” he reprimands under his breath.

Yamaguchi regains his position near Kei, who lets him.

“You taste like strawberry,” he informs him.

“Mm. You just wanted a taste of ice cream, didn’t you? You could’ve asked,” Kei mutters. He grabs the front of Tadashi’s sweater and adds, more quietly:

“Now, Yamaguchi, if you’re going to distract me from the movie _you_ wanted me to watch…” He feels the vibration of laughter inside the other’s chest, “… Are you planning on kissing me properly or not?”

When Tadashi grins again, he doesn’t look very apologetic anymore. On the contrary, he seems quite pleased with himself.

“As much as you like, Tsukki!”

Tsukishima snorts. He’s trying to look stern and composed, but he’s aware that he’s failing.

He pinches a stray lock of Tadashi’s hair between two fingers and pushes it behind the other’s ear, tidying him up. Just so he can mess him up again soon enough, he thinks to himself.

“You’d better keep your word,” he hums, and pushes Yamaguchi down on the couch under him. Tadashi just laughs and wraps his long legs around Kei’s hips.

Kei seizes his mouth for a rough kiss.

Oh, he’s going to get payback, that’s for sure.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... wat. what is this. i don't know.
> 
> (I can totally imagine Tsukki and Yama as the sort of couple who's been together for so long that they can be gross around each other and don't really care anymore.)


	7. Angry (Hinata/Kageyama)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My basic idea for this piece was literally "Hinata and Kageyama sharing an angry kiss during the camp in season 2 after their big fight". I took it from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again this one-shot became much longer than I intended... I really never seem to be able to stay true to the "Bite-sized" part of the title. 
> 
> Please note that I included mentions of Hinata and Kageyama calling each other 'stupid' and 'dumbass'. I used these adjectives because they're pretty common both in canon and in fanon, and because it felt fitting in context, but please be aware of this if it makes you uncomfortable.

“Kageyama!”

Hinata’s voice exploded in his eardrums. It echoed, loud and clear, in the humid summer air.

Tobio clenched his fists and stood still, turning away from his teammate.

He couldn’t look at him.

He hesitated for a moment, then resumed walking.

Maybe, if he pretended to not have heard, the other would disappear and he wouldn’t have to confront him.

 

 _Ha._ Except that this was _Hinata,_ and Hinata never, _ever_ knew when to give up.

A small, warm hand with surprisingly strong fingers gripped his forearm and pulled him backwards with unexpected force.

Kageyama turned on his heels, mouth half-open, his face already reddening with instinctive annoyance.

There he was, Hinata, standing less than a step away from him in the tall grass.

They were both just outside the door to one of the gyms, under the yellowish cone of a lamplight. Around them, the sky was dark, the air buzzing with the sounds of nocturnal insects.

Even in the semi-darkness, Kageyama could see that Hinata’s face was red and that his eyes were shining dangerously. It was the same kind of _lightning_ that Tobio had seen a few nights before, during their fight in the gym that had scared Yachi-san nearly to death.

Kageyama yanked his hand away, gritting his teeth.

“What?!” he snapped, because as long as he managed to sound angrier than Hinata, he might still have a chance to put an end to a conversation he didn’t want to have.

Hinata’s now empty hands, hanging uselessly along his hips, started shaking.

“Don’t act like you don’t know, Kageyama!” he yelled. He took a step closer. “Why won’t you toss to me? Why won’t you practice with me? You keep saying no!”

“Because—” Tobio struggled to push the words out. “I already told you! I don’t want to practice with you right now. Go bother someone else.”

Hinata’s chin snapped up.

He clenched his jaw. He curled up his lips over his teeth in a grimace.

The entirety of his small body seemed to be trembling, buzzing with barely suppressed energy.

 

“You… Stop acting like a jerk! How are we supposed to improve if you don’t let me train with you?”

He tried grasping at Kageyama’s shoulder again.

Kageyama grabbed his wrist, stopping him in mid-air.

“Stupid, stop touching me!” he growled.

Without thinking, his fist clasped a portion of the front of Hinata’s shirt. That gesture had become familiar and instinctive in their more heated confrontations, but it didn’t always mean actual anger. This time, it did.

Kageyama shook the other boy hard enough that he heard his teeth clacking.

He achieved the effect of startling Hinata, at least a little; but even that wasn’t enough to make Hinata let go of him. Instead, his short fingernails sunk into Kageyama’s forearms and scratched his flesh enough to make him wince.

“Then listen to me!” Hinata shouted.

Kageyama shoved him.

“Why – can’t you – leave me alone!”

Kageyama pressed the palm of his hand against Hinata’s chest, trying to push him away without punching or kicking him - even though Hinata was making him _want to_ more and more with every second.

Hinata staggered and almost lost his balance; again, he just clung to him even harder. No, he really never knew when to put an end to a fight – but Kageyama had no intention of being the one to take a step back.

They pushed and pulled until they ended up walking behind the nearest corner of the building.

Kageyama shoved Hinata against one of the walls.

Hinata’s back impacted against the hard surface and he opened his mouth, letting out a choked gasp.

They glared at each other, panting. There was sweat on their faces, sweat making their shirts cling to their bodies.

Tobio suddenly became aware that they were closer than he had immediately realized, and that his hands were now clasped around Hinata’s arms, pinning them to his sides. A small part of Tobio’s mind worried about having hurt him; but Hinata was still looking at him like he was ready to swing at him and Kageyama’s hands were the only thing restricting him.

 

“I… I can’t stand you!” Kageyama snarled.

It wasn’t true. He didn’t mean it. He let it out anyway.

“… You always have to have it your way!” he added, accusingly, because he didn’t know what else to say.

He was angry; and he was _ashamed_ of himself _–_ not that Hinata ever needed to know _that_. He was ashamed because he wanted to improve just as much as Hinata did, and he had been working so hard to do that… they all had… but their team had still been beaten by Seijoh, and for all their efforts, they still hadn’t found a solution. Now Hinata wanted to try the new quick at all costs, and when Hinata set his mind on something it was almost impossible to sway him.

Hinata wasn’t ready yet. Tobio wasn’t ready, either. He’d thought he could, but… he couldn’t.  

He couldn’t give Hinata the toss he needed. He needed to work through this on his own, and Hinata didn’t _want_ to understand…!

Hinata kept glaring at his face while struggling to break free.

“Me?! Look who’s talking, stupid Kageyama!” The white of Hinata’s teeth shone in the bluish darkness. “You’re being a selfish jerk again! If we don’t train together we’re never going to improve and you keep ignoring me and—”

“Stop asking me that! I told you, when I want to train with you I’ll tell you…!”

Without listening to him, Hinata struggled harder. Against his instinct, instead of letting him go like he usually would have by now, Kageyama gripped his arms tighter and kept him in place.

“Ah, I forgot,” Hinata snarled. “The King only gives hearing when he wants to!”

“Shut _up!_ ”

 

Exasperated, Kageyama growled in frustration. He shook Hinata by his shoulders, pressing him harder against the wall.

He pushed one of his knees between Hinata’s legs, not really thinking about what he was doing. Hinata’s arms were still trapped, but Hinata’s thighs clenched around his knee and the smaller boy let out a strange, guttural noise that seemed to catch them both by surprise.

Kageyama’s breath got stuck in his throat. Hinata was so close. His red hair smelled like sweat and grass and dirt, and Kageyama’s heart started racing.

All of a sudden, he felt as if a burning iron had been pressed over his forehead and his cheeks; he finally released Hinata’s wrists.

Hinata snapped.

He lunged forward; this time he was the one who fisted the front of Kageyama’s shirt, abruptly pulling him close again.

Hinata pressed their mouths together, making their teeth clash.

His lips were chapped and slightly salty. His open mouth against Kageyama’s felt wet, and very warm.

Kageyama’s back stiffened. His hands landed on Hinata’s shoulders… he was about to push him away, but instead he kept kissing him back.

Hinata sucked on his lower lip and a sudden spark of pleasure darted down his spine. Kageyama made a sound in his throat. One of his hands travelled up Hinata’s neck to squeeze his nape, and he tentatively moved his mouth against Hinata’s.

 

They had never… kissed, before. Not really. There had been occasions where they’d been, well, almost _close._

Like that one time, after one particularly satisfying practice where the whole team had been pretty hyped up and satisfied. Hinata had quietly sneaked up on him and enthusiastically patted his back… when Tobio had turned, Hinata had leaped and stamped a quick kiss on his cheek, before running away, grinning from ear to ear like a mischievous toddler.

And then, more recently, just after the devastating defeat they had suffered against Aoba Johsai… after he and Hinata had found themselves running around the gym, the two of them shouting their anger at the waxed wooden floor.

After they had exhausted themselves, they had sort of leaned against each other, chest to chest, Hinata’s forehead touching Kageyama’s chin.

They had stood there and cried and cried. They’d processed their anger, each one on his own, but next to each other. That time hadn’t been a hug, and it hadn’t been a kiss; but for a few moments their faces, their lips, had been almost touched, and Kageyama still thought about it from time to time.

He’d never said anything about it. He wasn’t even sure Hinata noticed those moments… Hinata was often like that. He joked about Tobio being too stuck-up and angry, and he sometimes threatened to try and prove that he had a ‘soft side’; but he never really dared go far beyond that.

Well, Kageyama thought, as soon as his brain became capable of forming coherent ideas again. Maybe Hinata _had_ been noticing, then.

 

Kageyama stared at him, with his pupils blown wide, his mouth hanging slightly open. An incredulous, slightly indignant expression quickly bloomed on his face.

He drew back, but not very much.

“Why… why the hell did you do that?!”

Hinata’s eyes were still firmly fixed on his face – on his mouth, actually. His teammate’s cheeks were just as flushed as Tobio’s felt, but his eyes were still dark and full of fury, and Tobio’s throat went dry.

“Because – because you annoy me so much!” Hinata stammered, becoming conscious of how silly the words sounded just as he said them.

He stood on tiptoe and tugged on Kageyama’s shirt, making him lower his chin at a more reachable angle. Shouyou kissed him hard, again, breathlessly, immediately going to push the tip of his tongue against Kageyama’s lower lip.

He wasn’t good at this, neither of them was; but Hinata was _angry_ and pushy and his body was _burning_ against Kageyama’s, and Kageyama let him. Hinata’s tongue poked between Tobio’s lips – warm, wet, and unlike anything he was used to.

He parted his lips, and breathed him in.

His arms and his hands wandered for a while, hovering over Hinata’s back without deciding where he could touch, before he settled his palms a little above the other’s hips.

Hinata writhed against him and Kageyama’s grasp tightened. He sunk his fingertips into Hinata’s t-shirt, which was sticking to his back like a second skin. Hinata’s hands travelled to his back and slipped under Tobio’s shirt, sweaty palms over sweaty skin. His short fingernails scratched him lightly as Hinata clung onto him, something like a small animal, but it didn’t really hurt. Hinata’s touches were random, frantic, as if he wanted to feel as much of Kageyama as he could under his palms but he didn’t know how or where to start.

 

Kageyama squeezed the upper parts of Hinata’s thighs with both hands, and that made the other player pant into his mouth. Just as he became aware of the increasing uncomfortable tightness of his own underwear, Hinata grinded against him again.

He was getting hard, too, Tobio felt it, and then Hinata made another one of those _sounds_ that were something between a growl and a moan, and the next thing Tobio felt was a sudden stinging pain on his lower lip.

“Ah…”

Kageyama grabbed a fistful of Hinata’s hair, pulling him back for a moment. Hinata’s lips were parted, his teeth still bared. There was a trickle of saliva at the right corner of his mouth, and a wet, metallic taste lingering on Tobio’s own.

“That _hurt_ , dumbass,” he growled, giving another tug at the orange strands. Before Hinata could reply, Kageyama seized his mouth and kissed him again.

He cupped Hinata’s face in his hands, roughly squishing the other’s soft cheeks. He nipped at Hinata’s lower lip, mimicking what Hinata had done but in a clumsier way, and kept kissing him hungrily. Hinata moaned into his mouth and leaned dangerously against Tobio’s chest with all his weight, as if he were drunk.

Kageyama slipped the palms of his hands under the undersides of Hinata’s thighs, raising him upwards. The position wasn’t very comfortable and it strained his arms, because Hinata wasn’t as light as he seemed; but Shouyou seemed to sense what he was doing and wrapped his ankles around Kageyama’s legs for support.

Kageyama held him there, the both of them trembling, while they kept kissing. They kept running out of breath, their noses bumping against one another as they tried to adjust their faces.

One of Shouyou’s hands moved to Kageyama’s head and he stroked his hair. He didn’t pull too hard, but his hand lingered there until smooth strands of hair got tangled around his sticky fingers.

 

Finally, they pulled apart. Kageyama felt his arms and legs shake, about to give in after long hours of training and that additional effort; he bent his knees and let Hinata jump down.

The middle blocker remained with his eyes cast down, for a moment, standing in front of Kageyama with his hair covering his face.

“H-hey, you…” Tobio started, even though he didn’t really know what he was going to say, because Hinata was silent.

Then Hinata raised his chin, looking at him. His lips were swollen, the skin around the edge all reddened; his eyes were glossy and his hair was even more of a mess than usual. Tobio knew that he probably didn’t look much better.

Hinata stomped on the ground, once, with the sole of his foot.

“I’ll ask you again tomorrow, Kageyama!” he yelled, suddenly, louder than was necessary, since they were still standing just a few inches apart. “I’ll keep asking until you listen to me, so don’t think… that you’re gonna escape, ok?”

“I…” Tobio glared at him, feeling a faint trace of the anger from before resurfacing, bubbling under his skin again.

But Hinata didn’t leave him the time to react. This time, he turned on his heels and turned his back on the setter. He quickly stampeded away, leaving just a trail of foot prints in the shorter, drier grass.

 

Kageyama stared at him as the silhouette of his teammate became more and more distant, until he disappeared into the entrance to one of the main buildings.

The dark-haired boy stalled, standing for a few moments in the stifling heat. He felt still out of breath just as if he had just fought on the court of an official match.

He let his arms drop to his sides and clenched and unclenched his fists.

Without noticing, he licked his lower lip.

He could still feel the hot, wet aftertaste of kissing Hinata lingering on his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... How obvious is it that I no longer have any original ideas for how to title these pieces?  
>  Angry kisses against a wall are my favorites. I also have a soft spot for Kageyama and Hinata gradually developing a mutual crush on each other and being hopeless at noticing so the tension increases until it explodes. Hell yeah.
> 
> The story of Hinata sneaking up on Kage to kiss him got stuck in my brain and it probably deserves a one-shot of its own.


	8. Confrontation (Oikawa/Hinata)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They stand still, in silence, in that cramped space where their bodies are practically forced to touch.  
> Hinata shivers, almost imperceptibly, under his black and orange shirt; but he squares his small shoulders and raises his chin, standing in all of his modest height.  
> Big brown eyes stare decisively into Tooru’s own.  
> Something like an electric spark flares between the two of them, and – oh, Tooru realizes, he has missed this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!  
> I can finally update this collection! I hadn't forgotten about it, don't worry, but I've been working on this particular chapter for more than a month because I could never bring myself to finish it. I'm still not very satisfied with the result, but I'll let you judge that.  
> Anyway: be aware that the following piece contains a moment between Oikawa and Hinata that could have light undertones of bullying and harassment. There is nothing explicit or violent, but the situation revolves around Oikawa trying to intimidate Hinata, so please avoid this chapter if it can be upsetting to you.  
> There's also a hint of Kageyama/Hinata, though it's not the main focus.  
> Let me know what you think!

After his brief run-in with Hinata Shouyou earlier, Tooru wasn’t really thinking about meeting the younger player again so soon.

Their encounter has left a weird aftertaste in his mouth, a strange sensation in his body. It feels like a low current of electricity buzzing and tingling underneath his skin, in the palms of his hands and down his spine. It’s something that Tooru doesn’t know exactly how to decipher, so he tries to quickly push it out of his mind.

He opts to distract himself by going to Iwa-chan. He throws an arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulders and teases him over something unimportant, prompting the usual string of annoyed grumbling and half-hearted threats. Iwaizumi’s reaction serves its purpose, at least for a while.

They’re there to fight against Shiratorizawa, after all. Karasuno is undoubtedly an entertaining opponent; should the opportunity arise, Tooru wouldn’t mind facing them again, especially if he can have a chance to teach his former _kouhai_ another lesson. Still, Karasuno is not the main objective in this competition.

He needs to stay focused.

So, Tooru goes to stretch and warm up with his teammates, and momentarily forgets about Hinata.

Until about twenty minutes later.

 

The matches haven’t started yet. Oikawa decides to head to one of the restrooms for a quick sip of water and a mandatory mirror-check before the first game. Looking his best, after all, helps make him feel at his best, too.

As soon as he pushes the door open, he recognizes a familiar small, red-headed figure near one of the stalls.

Hinata is about to go in, but he instinctively turns around to glance at whoever has arrived. He stops abruptly, one hand still raised over the wooden panel.

“G-Great King,” he sputters.

Tooru smiles, reassuring and saccharine-sweet.

“Hinata,” he exclaims, fake cheerfulness bouncing on every syllable as he softly closes the door behind him.

A quick look at the stalls tells him that there’s no one else besides them.

An idea surges in his brain – sudden, unplanned, but _so_ appealing.

Tooru strides towards Hinata, covering the distance that keeps them apart.

He sees the younger boy flinch.

He doesn’t leave him the time to react.

 

Hinata reflexively steps back until his back knocks the door open.

Oikawa corners him inside the stall. He towers over him, just like earlier, when they met right outside the very same restroom.

They stand still, in silence, in that cramped space where their bodies are practically forced to touch.

Hinata shivers, almost imperceptibly, under his black and orange shirt; but he squares his small shoulders and raises his chin, standing in all of his modest height. Big brown eyes stare decisively into Tooru’s own.

Something like an electric spark flares between the two of them, and – oh, Tooru realizes, he has _missed_ this.

 

He leans with one hand on the wall in front of him, just a few centimeters above Hinata’s head.

“You’re even more reckless than I thought, walking around all on your own…” he observes, faking a casual tone.  

The other boy gulps. “… Well, the s-same goes for you, Great King…”

He looks a bit intimidated, and rightly so – it’s a look that Oikawa likes. It’s only fair that Hinata should remain very conscious of the defeat that he and his teammates suffered at the hands of Aoba Josai.

But Tooru also knows better than to underestimate Hinata Shouyou.

Hinata is brave, he won’t stay subdued for long. Oikawa impulsively decides that he wants to see just how far he can push him.

He shrugs, waving his free hand in an impatient gesture. “Well, yes… listening to Iwa-chan preaching just before a match can get a little boring.”

He steps closer. Just like on the court, his movements are made sharper by the knowledge that Hinata isn’t taking his eyes off of him.

“So, shrimpy, tell me…” Tooru tilts his head to a side, “… Whatever happened to your faithful setter? I thought _Tobio-chan_ followed you everywhere,” he enquires, partly out of genuine curiosity.

 

The mention of Hinata’s teammate – and especially the use of the affectionate form, when they both know all too well that _affection_ doesn’t quite describe how Oikawa feels towards Kageyama - suddenly seems to spark a reaction.

Caution and fear seem to be rapidly put aside, replaced by a trace of that anger that Oikawa has seen before, when they faced each other on different sides of the net.

If Oikawa didn’t know better – if he hadn’t seen that _fire_ first-hand – he would find Hinata’s attempt at looking tough very amusing.

“Kageyama’s fine” Hinata says curtly, pink lips pressed into a tight line.

He tries to move to a side; he’s stopped by Oikawa’s other arm.

 

The redhead swallows, uncomfortably trapped between the cold, light blue tiles of the wall and Oikawa’s body.

He could still push Oikawa away, or at least try; but he seems to decide against it.

Oikawa keeps his eyes fixed on the younger boy. He leans closer to him, enough that his knees brush against Hinata’s thighs.

“Is he? I’m glad. From what I’d gathered, I thought you two were going through some hard times…” Oikawa licks his lips. “You know, he came to me, of all people… He asked for my help. Your Kageyama.”

Hinata’s cheeks blush a deep red. He seems to want to interrupt him, correct him, but Oikawa doesn’t let him. He continues, conversationally: “He couldn’t admit to you that he wasn’t good enough, but he crawled to _me_ …”

Oikawa pauses, smiling his charming smile. “What? He didn’t tell you about it, Shou-chan?”

 

Lightning flares in Shouyou’s brown eyes and it’s… a sight. Oh, Tooru would _love it_ , if he wasn’t painfully aware of the fact it’s the thought of Kageyama that sparks up that energy in him.  

“Kageyama and I--!” Hinata raises his voice, almost shouting, momentarily forgetting that someone might walk in and hear them. “We’ve had problems, it’s true! S-so what? We’ve worked through it. We’re stronger than last time. You will see!”

Oikawa holds back a sudden peak of annoyance that quickly threatens to turn into a burst of anger. He schools his features to maintain his usual polite, pleasant exterior.

“It seems you still trust him very much,” he comments, slowly, after making sure that he sounds sufficiently detached.

 

His hand moves from the wall to Hinata’s hair. His fingers comb through a few strands, then travel down to Hinata’s face.

Hinata whimpers a little, unwittingly tensing up his shoulders; but he keeps standing right there, with his back flat against the wall.

Tooru keeps observing Hinata, taking in every small detail. All of a sudden, he’s overwhelmed by the desire to keep touching his soft hair, to cup that cute face in his hands like a precious trophy.

Oikawa imagines the rush of Shouyou’s heartbeat inside his chest, and thinks he catches a glimpse of the way Shouyou’s neck moves when he holds his breath.

“And yet,” Tooru continues, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper, “your friend is not here with you right now. Kageyama is not coming to save you, _Shou-chan_ ,” he adds, delicately.

Hinata’s skin under the pads of his fingers is smooth and cool. Oikawa leaves a caress on his cheek with the back of his hand. It’s such a fleeting, light gesture – it’s quite easy to pretend it means nothing to him.

Shouyou’s eyes dart to the hand touching him. Then back to Oikawa’s face.

 

That almost makes Tooru smile. He’s got to hand it to him; Hinata may be scared, but he’s not giving in to panic. Off the court as well as on, he seems to have learned to keep his composure better than before.

Tooru catches Hinata’s chin in his fingers. He’s surprised when Hinata doesn’t flinch, doesn’t push him away; instead, the other player leans into his touch, silently holding his gaze.

“… I don’t need to be _saved_ ,” Hinata counters.

“You don’t?” Oikawa traces the line of Hinata’s lower lip with his thumb. Hinata’s lips are slightly parted: he feels the edges of teeth on his finger pad, the humid softness of the inside of his mouth.

He leans with a forearm against the wall, slightly angling Shouyou’s face upward. The hand on his mouth travels down, along Hinata’s throat.

That – curiously, that’s what seems to fluster Hinata enough to make him turn his head, his cheeks flushing pink as he averts his gaze.

Again, Oikawa wonders, fleetingly, what it would take to make Hinata’s precarious mask of self-control crumble, what it would take for him to admit defeat first, in this improvised little game they’re playing.

He wonders if Hinata has already given his first kiss, and who that person was. Tooru isn’t that experienced himself, but he’s had his share of confessions and first dates.

He bites his tongue.

He already knows that he doesn’t want to scare Hinata so much, probably. Not to the point of making him cry, or making him run away, though maybe he could be able to, and there is at least a small amount of appeal to that idea.

 

Oikawa lets him go, dropping his hand along his hip.

“Oh, don’t be scared. I was just joking, Shou-chan,” he assures, punctuating the sentence with another bubbly chuckle at the end.

 

Hinata takes a quick breath, seemingly steeling himself.

He clenches his fists along his sides and takes a step towards him, suddenly becoming the one who’s invading Tooru’s space.

He raises his chin, his mouth and the tip of his nose all of a sudden only inches away from Tooru’s face. The smell of his skin is in Oikawa’s nostrils, mixed with a faint trace of sweat.

“What do you _actually_ want, Great King?” Hinata finally asks, bluntly, voice small but determined.

A bitter smirk almost reaches Oikawa’s lips. So maybe little Shouyou isn’t as naïve as he thought. Maybe he’s seen through his little ruse all along.

“Hm? I’m just having a chat with a valiant opponent,” he says.

All things considered, the lie rolls off his lips nonchalantly enough, with only a moderate amount of effort.

 

If they weren’t opponents, if Hinata Shouyou were just a cute boy that he’s met off the court, Tooru thinks that he might like to ask him out.

He’d invite Hinata to some nice coffee shop for a date; they would hold hands, take cute pictures together and exchange email addresses. The nicknames they’ve come up with for each other would be a lovely secret to whisper into each other’s ear, instead of a reminder of the different sides they belong to.

He would like to be nice to Hinata, and make him smile for him with that sunny, shining smile of his.

But that is… just a fantasy, nothing more. It’s not who they are, and that is not how it’s going to go between them.

 

They’re rivals. And Hinata, for reasons that escape Oikawa’s comprehension, is Kageyama’s friend. Somehow, he seems to even genuinely _like_ the arrogant King of the Court.

For all these reasons, Oikawa won’t go soft on him. Not today. Not ever.

 

A voice in Tooru’s head tells him that it’s too late to step back now. The only thing he can do is play his part till the end.

 

“Trusting Kageyama is a mistake, _Shou-chan_ ,” he whispers in Shouyou’s ear. “You two aren’t the powerhouse that you think. In the end, he will always disappoint you. He will use you for his own purposes and then discard you when he no longer needs you. Ah, but I’ve tried to make you understand this before, didn’t I…?”

 

Hinata slowly shakes his head. He leans towards Oikawa. 

Tooru gulps. His mouth feels very dry.

Being so close to Hinata is making him feel warm under the fabric of his uniform’s shirt. He can count all the orange curls on Hinata’s head, every black lash shadowing his half-closed eyes. Hinata’s breath is on his lips, carrying a vague minted flavor.

Tooru _really_ wants to kiss him, right now.

 

Tooru is taken slightly by surprise when one of Hinata’s fists sinks into the left sleeve of his jacket and he’s pulled forward.

Hinata’s brown eyes widen.

Tooru distinctly sees the sudden fraction of a second where all hesitation and coyness disappear from those irises, until all that’s left is – lightning.

 

Paralyzed, Tooru stares at Hinata.

 

A breath away from his mouth, Hinata’s lips curl into a grin.

“You’re wrong, Great King,” he says, slowly, emphasizing every word. The fabric of Oikawa’s jacket is twisted harder in Hinata’s fingers. “You’re the one who’s making a mistake. You underestimate us. On that court… we’re going to defeat you. Kageyama and I, and the rest of Karasuno. And then… we’re the ones who are going to take down Shiratorizawa.”

Too stupefied to speak, Oikawa opens his mouth, but no words come out.

 

Hinata lets him go and slips away from him easily, with an agile movement.

He pushes the stall door’s open and slides out.

They lock eyes again for one final moment.

 

“See you soon, Oikawa-san,” Hinata murmurs. His voice has the same crackling, vibrating electricity that makes something melt like hot lava in Oikawa’s belly at the same time as ice cold shivers creep down his spine.

Oikawa straightens his shoulders and fixes his posture.

One hand still leaning on the wall, he glances at Shouyou from under the fringe of his brown hair, and smiles at his opponent.

A _formidable_ one, and Hinata is right – Oikawa shouldn’t forget it.

He smiles, and it’s genuine this time.

“I look forward to it, Hinata-kun,” he says, affably. “It will be my pleasure to crush you and your team one more time.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece was based entirely on that episode in season 2 when Karasuno arrives at the tournament and Hinata meets Oikawa outside the bathroom. I was struck by the fact that Hinata seemed intimidated and anxious, despite the fact that on the court he seemed pretty capable of challenging Oikawa with all he had, so I wanted to work with that.  
> As I said, I'm not really pleased with this chapter, but I wanted to post it anyway after working on it for so long...  
> I don't think I've been able to efficiently show what I was going for.  
> I was toying around with this idea that Oikawa isn't actually that much of a jerk, but he puts up a façade to intimidate his opponents. When he finds himself genuinely crushing on Hinata, he doesn't know how to act spontaneously, because the boy he likes is also his "enemy".  
> I'm aware that I probably went quite OOC with both characters. :/
> 
> On a less serious note, #shout out to two of my favorite clichés, "electricity-related metaphors to symbolize attraction" and "Haikyuu characters having intimate moments in restrooms".


	9. Don't blame me (Oikawa/Hinata/Kageyama)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Spring tournament, Oikawa and Hinata have started dating.
> 
> Kageyama confronts Oikawa and lets him know exactly what he thinks about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Love triangles are a huge guilty pleasure of mine. There are healthier, happier alternatives, but I like the mess.  
>  Also, jealousy and unresolved emotional baggage? BRING IT ON.
> 
> Leave a comment to let me know what you think of this chapter, if you want. ^^  
> Marty

“Hey! Oikawa!”

The sound of his name immediately attracts Tooru’s attention, prompting him to lift his gaze from his cell phone and look around. He is standing just outside his school’s building, after the end of class.

He manages to localize the source of the noise in the figure of Kageyama… who is currently striding across the courtyard headed towards him, stomping his feet on the concrete soldier-like, like someone who means business.

Kageyama is wearing a huge dark grey hoodie, despite the warm temperature in this late spring afternoon, and a pair of oversized black shades. Only Kageyama Tobio could ever believe that such a disguise would serve any purpose, because Oikawa recognizes him right away.

Tooru is vaguely surprised, but he’s not given much time to react before the Karasuno setter stops in front of him.

Tooru blinks.

“… Kageyama. What exactly are you doing here?”

Kageyama lunges forward and grabs Tooru by the shoulder.

“Oikawa,” he repeats, through his teeth. This time, the absence of the honorific doesn’t escape Tooru’s attention, because Kageyama is usually insufferably polite to him.

Kageyama is panting as if he’s been running all the way there.

“You are dating Hinata” he manages between heavy breaths.

It doesn’t sound like it’s meant to be a question.

 

There’s a moment of stunned silence on Oikawa’s part, because Kageyama coming to him for volleyball-related advice made at least a modicum of sense, but Kageyama coming to discuss Tooru’s relationship status is entirely ridiculous.

Finally, he manages to regain his composure enough to react.

He yanks his arm free, batting Kageyama’s hand away with an annoyed gesture.

“Are you out of your mind?!”

He quickly glances around to make sure that none of his teammates is watching them, or else they’ll seriously start thinking that he and Kageyama are secretly friends. Luckily, they seem to have all disappeared, including Iwaizumi who got out before him today and walked home by himself. No one else seems to be paying attention to them.

He turns his gaze back to Kageyama, who is still standing ridiculously straight, with his arms crossed on his chest.

Tooru rolls his eyes and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Not _here_ , you idiot,” he exclaims.

He grasps one of Tobio’s wrists and pulls him; Kageyama mumbles something, but follows along.

 

Tooru drags him to a less crowded spot of Seijoh’s courtyard, just behind a corner of the main building. They can still hear all the buzz, the voices and the bursts of laughter from the students that are going home, but the place seems secluded enough.

Kageyama rips off his sunglasses and unceremoniously pushes them down one of the hoodie’s pockets, then he glares at Oikawa.

Tooru sighs and puts his hands on his hips, resigning himself to listen.

“So, is that what it’s all about, King?”

Kageyama’s blue eyes narrow.

He takes a step forward and suddenly, again, he’s all up in Tooru’s face, with a clenched jaw and the strained muscles in his neck sticking out from the collar of his sweater.

“Yes,” Kageyama growls. “I… want the truth. You’re… Hinata’s… _boyfriend_.”

He utters the last sentence in a whisper, his lips curled in a grimace as if he were sucking on a lemon.

 

Tooru’s eyes harden.

“So what if I am?” A steely undertone colors his voice. “I fail to see how who I decide to date is any of your business, Tobio- _chan_ ,” he drawls, emphasizing the petulant childish nickname.

He distinctly sees the way Kageyama’s shoulders tense, the way the younger boy clenches his fists and then unclenches them, wrists shaking.

Kageyama still looks like he’s on the verge of hitting him, which Tooru finds faintly alarming, because he’s in no particular mood to get punched in the face – what with the fact that he still has practice to attend later and, yes, a _date_ tomorrow.

He goes quiet, eying Kageyama warily.

 

“Since when?” Kageyama pauses. “Hinata won’t… talk to me about it.”

The sheer, raw honesty in his tone almost makes Tooru feel compassion for him. _Almost._

The King of the Court must be really desperate to find out more, if he’s willing to admit to a weak spot like that right away, to his enemy himself.

Tooru pushes that feeling away and comments, dismissively: “Well, maybe if he doesn’t want to tell you, he has his reasons.”

He continues in a monotone, pointedly pretending to find the conversation more boring than he does: “Shou-chan said he only wanted to tell your captain and vice-captain about our relationship. He said they’d be good at handling this kind of thing. I don’t really mind either way… He’s free to do as he chooses.”

 

Kageyama flinches and looks away for a moment. So that’s a victory for Tooru, letting Kageyama know that he’s not the one Hinata chose as his confidant for this matter; but it should taste sweeter than the bitter flavor Tooru feels in his mouth.

He tilts his head slightly to a side.

“Anyway, since you seem to want to know so much, I’ll tell you. We’ve started after Shou-chan and the rest of you crows defeated us so brutally.”

Thinking about the loss at the Spring Tournament still burns him, but Tooru is not so angry about it anymore. He’s had time to cool off, and he’s glad at least that the defeat of his team was brought upon in part by an opponent like Hinata. But he has no intention of explaining all this to Kageyama.

He continues: “Hinata and I had been texting and seeing each other for a while, before, but we’d decided not to date until after the tournament. See, no conflict of interest that way.” He flashes a quick, sarcastic smirk.

 

Kageyama clacks his tongue in a derisive _tch_ sound.

“This is just about volleyball to you, isn’t it?” he asks. The question, coming from him of all people, sounds weirdly out of place. “You’re using Hinata to spy on us, or… or you’re going to distract him from practice to sabotage us.”

He’s positively shaking with rage, all over. At any other time, Tooru might be entertained by how easily Kageyama can be riled up, without having to say almost anything.

He shakes his head. He steps closer and looks down on Kageyama, as if he were a child that Tooru is scolding.

“Relax, King. Why would I need to spy on your team? We’ve already fought face to face, and _unlike_ someone else, I don’t go creeping around other people’s school in disguise.”

“Besides,” Tooru adds, sharply, “I’ll have you know that I _do_ really like Shouyou very much. And I want to make him happy.”

 

Again, like before, Tobio flinches in his too-warm hoodie.

He opens and closes his mouth, unable to push out the words – not even entirely sure about what he wants to say. He knows that the way he keeps staring at Oikawa does nothing to mask his disbelief, but he can’t control it. Oikawa calls Hinata by his given name? … Since when?

Not even he does it, and he thought… it’s not that it matters, Tobio has never used Hinata’s first name and it would be entirely too embarrassing to start now. It’s simply not something that they do, and Hinata has never mentioned caring about something like that, so…

Still, he had thought… _if_ Hinata had wanted to be called by his name… in the back of his head, in a tiny, well-hidden part of his mind, Tobio had expected to matter more to Hinata than _Oikawa Tooru._

 

All these confused fragments of thoughts flash through Tobio’s head and meanwhile Oikawa keeps staring at him curiously, as if he’s noticed the reaction and it has piqued his interest.

Then, Oikawa steps closer and grabs the front of Kageyama’s shirt.

It’s a dangerous move, one he probably shouldn’t try, but he is starting to get annoyed now. Kageyama, after all, is the one who came into his territory, where he has no business being, to throw around accusations that Tooru doesn’t deserve.

He brings their faces close enough that their noses brush.

 

It feels weird, being this close to Kageyama, his former _kouhai_ and his most detested rival.

Tooru feels a weight inside his chest. It’s like a bundle of barbed wire that’s deeply intertwined, and any attempt to disentangle it only makes the thorns sink deeper.

As much as he pretends to have forgotten now, he still remembers the days in middle school when Kageyama’s bright blue eyes made him feel as if he was walking on a tightrope, precariously balancing himself between flying and plummeting to his death.

His first crush, and how he had reacted by treating Kageyama with all the coldness and the meanness he had in his young self, because Tooru didn’t know what to make of those feelings that he didn’t understand, how they were mixed with the deep, gut-wrenching envy for Kageyama’s effortless genius.

Meeting him again in high school had felt elating, a new kind of dangerous. But this time Kageyama was flanked by a new, unpredictable force of nature, that ball of sheer energy and power of will that was Hinata Shouyou, and then – well, Hinata had ended up catching Tooru’s interest without even trying.

 

Tooru pulls Kageyama closer, pretending not to notice the way he immediately stiffens.

“Why do you care so much about _Shouyou_ dating someone?” he whispers.

This time, the use of Hinata’s name is deliberate, and Tooru sinks his teeth into the word and rolls it on his tongue as if it’s a piece of chocolate.

He grins.

“Are you jealous, Kageyama?”

 

Kageyama starts furiously shaking his head, blush pricking at the skin of his cheeks.

 “I…! This has nothing to do with me.” He clears his throat. Inhales noisily.

“Hinata… is good. Honest. He’s kind to everyone. He’s an idiot, but… he’s my teammate, and…” finding the words seems impossible “… And he’s… my friend.”

Every single word sounds as if it’s being slowly, torturously extracted from his mouth by force.

 

Oikawa bites back a bittersweet laugh. Kageyama is simply terrible at saying nice things about others, even when he’s trying to be kind, even when it’s obvious that he cares. But he’s so awkward and red-faced and infuriatingly earnest that Tooru finds he can’t make fun of him like he’d like to.

He lets go of Kageyama’s shirt. The courtyard is quieter now; the sky above their head is a bright shade of light blue, with only a few sparse white clouds.

Oikawa looks at Kageyama.

“Shouyou is perfectly capable of making his own decisions,” he says, finally.

There’s a bite to his words, a touch of defiance. “Don’t worry about him and stay out of this, Kageyama.”

 

Oikawa takes a step back. For a few moments, he quietly ponders the tempting urge to say more, something that would surely prod at Kageyama and hurt him even more.

He could tell him about the way Shouyou’s small hand fits into his, the warmth of his calloused palm and the curve of his neck, when they go for a walk on a rainy afternoon.

He could tell Kageyama about the way Shouyou’s red hair glistens in the sunset, messy curls like embers; or the way Shouyou’s laugh rings in his ears, a loud, open sound that pulls at something in Tooru’s chest and at the corners of his mouth.

Or he could describe the way Shouyou’s mouth tastes pressed against his, those times when Shouyou gently tugs on his wrist to pull him down and kiss him breathless.

There are other things Tooru could tell him, and Kageyama wouldn’t know if they are true or not, and the uncertainty would gnaw at him, Tooru knows – hopes – that it would.

 

Or maybe Kageyama already knows all these things. Tooru doesn’t know what to think about the relationship between Kageyama and Shouyou; he has wondered, many times, but he has never asked. Shou-chan never said anything about it.

They’re so close, Hinata and Kageyama, everyone knows, everyone notices.

Close enough that they have been each other’s first kiss? Close enough to have seen each other’s bodies, not just at the showers and in the locker room?  

He’s not sure he would like the answer.

 

He could taunt Kageyama some more, but in the end he says nothing. It wouldn’t be playing fair, would it?

He’s better than that.

He thinks of Shou-chan and how he wouldn’t like it if he were there, if he thought Tooru was being rude to his – _friend_.

 

Tooru fakes a polite smile.

“Will that be all, King?”

 

Kageyama scowls.

“There’s one more thing,” he says, clearly grudgingly, as if he’s annoyed because Tooru didn’t offer him the pretext to drag him on the floor and punch him.

Kageyama bares his teeth.

“If… if you do something to hurt Hinata… anything… I will know.”

 

Oikawa’s brown eyes shine threateningly in the sunlight.

Smile still frozen in place, he runs a hand through his hair.

“I’m sure you will, Tobio-chan,” he murmurs, icily.

He slips a hand inside one of the pocket of his jacket and pulls out his phone, holding Kageyama’s gaze as he slides his thumb across the screen. He starts typing, pointedly making sure that Kageyama is watching.

He finishes writing, then puts it away.

“Now, if you will excuse me… as fun as it is, I can’t waste the whole afternoon chattering with you,” Tooru says softly. “I have a team to take care of, and I need to get ready for a date.”

He bypasses Kageyama, shoulders bumping as he starts walking towards the gate.

He turns around to wave at Tobio.

“I’ll tell Shouyou you said hi, Tobio-chan.”

His voice echoes, bouncing from the concrete floor to the brick wall, carried by the warm, cherry-scented air.


End file.
